


50 Years Later, Today

by maria_j_harper



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: "What a bunch of weirdos", Drabble, Gen, I cannot art so I fic'ed instead, Season 2 cast meets their predecessors, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 13:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maria_j_harper/pseuds/maria_j_harper
Summary: There's been some art about the old characters meeting the new characters, and I just wanted to show how I imagine the new characters would feel about the old ones (here's a clue, they don't really like them for the most part). Contains lots of swearing (Beu) and some amusing misunderstandings as to a certain person's character (Vex).





	50 Years Later, Today

“Hey Molly, this Whitestone place is pretty cool, right?”

“I suppose, if you like living in the same place all your life and never having anything interesting happen, ever, there are worse places to settle down in.”

“I heard it got taken over by vampires a while ago, that’s interesting.” Jester stopped in front of a portrait, grabbing Mollymock’s arm so that he stopped with her. The portrait was taller than either of them, and depicted an aging couple of nobles. The man stood with dignity and poise, in traditional portraiture style, but the woman was leaning over to whisper something in his ear that was making him blush slightly, and one of her hands was buried in the fur of a large bear that leaned affectionately into the petting. Jester looked up at the pair with fascination. “Hey, that Percival deRolo guy’s pretty handsome, huh? For an older guy.”

“He’s not really my type,” Molly said critically. “Looks like one of those fancy fuckers who think they’re smarter than everyone else just because they read a book once. Probably an unbearable prat.”

“Well the lady seems pretty cool.”

“I’ll give you that, she does seem like an interesting person, at the very least. We had a bear act once, he danced and the juggler stood on his shoulders. Got bit by a rabid dog a year back and we had to put him down, though.”

“She’s apparently really nice. Started a charity for kids from bad homes. Really generous. I bet she always pays for things as much as they’re worth, if not more. She probably never stole anything in her life!”

Molly gave Jester an amused, indulgent smile. “I’m sure.”

 

Ford wandered Westrun, looking for something interesting to do. Knott and Yasha trailed behind him, each looking for their own sources of entertainment. He found something that piqued his curiosity, finally, in a large stone building toward the center of town. The engraving over the top of the door named it The Strongjaw Institute for Late Readers.

“Hey, let’s go in there.”

“Why?” Knott demanded.

“Just because. Looks interesting. I want to see what it’s all about.”

“D’you think there’ll be something worth stealing in there?”

“Won’t know until we go inside, will we?”

“I’ll just… stay out here,” Yasha said, positioning herself against the wall near the door.

“What, afraid people will think you don’t know how to read?” Ford needled.

“I know how to read! I just think there are better ways for me to spend my valuable time.”

“Alright, suit yourself.” Ford ambled inside the building, Knott trailing after him. After a tour of the building, which turned up several interestingly illustrated learner books (The Strongjaw Institute was seemingly of the opinion that people learned to read better if they were properly motivated, so alongside with See Jane Run were such texts as See Jane’s Boobies), they left. They found Yasha outside, desperately trying to escape a conversation with two gnomes. She looked towards them with relief.

“Oh, there are my friends now! Well, we’d better be going…”

“Well alright, but please don’t be scared to-” the gnomish woman began to say, but the man interrupted, holding his hand out to the others.

“Hello there! Scanlan Shorthalt, I’m one of the partners that fund this fine establishment. Are you interested in taking a class here, or…”

“No, no, no, we’re quite alright. Aren’t we Knott? We can read with the best of them,” Ford assured him.

“Yep! I can read all kinds of languages! Common, Elvish, Dwarvish, Draconic…” 

“Infernal,” Ford provided.

“Infernal,” she repeated.

“Celestial.”

“Celestial.”

“Gibberish.”

“Gibberish.”

“Gobbledygook.”

“No, Gobbledygook doesn’t have a written form, goblins don’t really read and write, as a rule,” Knott corrected.

“Little girl,” Scanlan said, putting his hand on Knott’s shoulder. “You don’t have to lie to us. There’s no shame in not knowing something.”

“That’s right,” his companion agreed. “There’s nothing wrong with not knowing how to read. Actually, that’s why we started this place. Our best friend didn’t learn to read until he was much older than you are now, I bet!”

“But despite that, he was the smartest of us all!” Scanlan remarked.

“He certainly had the best plans,” the woman agreed.

“All due respect,” Ford interrupted. “But we really didn’t come here for any reason other than some passing curiosity. Now that we’ve seen what there is to see, I think we’d be just as happy to be on our way.”

“Oh, of course. Sorry to have kept you.” The woman smiled. “My name is Pike, by the way though, in case you ever decide to change your mind and want to get in touch.”

“Well thank you kindly ma’am, I’ll be sure to remember that.” Ford strode away, companions hurrying along in his wake before the strangers could try to talk to them again.

“Man, what a couple of weirdos!” Knott exclaimed.

“Fucking goody-goodies,” Yasha spat.

“Don’t know who that Strongjaw fellow might be, but if those two are any indication, I think I’ll be steering clear of him if I can,” Ford remarked.

 

Caleb didn’t like ravens, he decided. Ravens, or specifically this one raven, sure did seem to like him though. Frumpkin had hissed and clawed at it, but it had simply flown out of reach and returned as soon as the cat turned his back. It perched on Caleb’s shoulder, preened his hair, and stole his food.

He really fucking hoped that the party would leave Vesrah soon. The leader, a strange half elf called Keyleth, kept giving him weird, sad looks. It made his skin itch. He was more than a little grateful when Beu stepped between him and the strange woman, leveling a glare in her direction.

“I’m sorry, can we help you?”

“No, I-I’m sorry, I just… That raven, and you…” She gestured to Caleb. “You remind me of someone, that’s all.”

“I didn’t ask for this thing to start following me around, I didn’t feed it or anything! It just… won’t leave me alone!” Caleb complained.

“Sometimes you don’t get to choose the path your life takes, sometimes it chooses you. That’s something that I learned early in life.” Keyleth glanced between him and the bird.

“Yeah, well we’re not you or… whoever you’re seeing when you look at the bird. I don’t know about him, but I’ll choose my own destiny, if that’s ok with you, your majesty.” Beu said, raising her chin defiantly at the woman. 

“I’m really not… I’m just Keyleth. And, I’m sorry, you’re right, I’m probably just projecting, I’m sorry. It’s just. The person you remind me of, he carried a lot of pain with him, a lot of sadness, and I think I see a similar weight on your shoulders, so I just thought you should know… it gets better. And you’re probably more than you think you are. And… it’s worth it. Whatever you’re going through, however difficult it is to care when… it could lead to getting hurt, it’s worth it.” She reached out towards Caleb. Beu made to intercede, but Caleb waved her off and took Keyleth’s hand.

“Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off,” Beu said.

“Sorry, jeeze, no need to be so rude.”

“You just keep talking! Even though we both made it pretty clear that your nostalgia and platitudes weren’t wanted or needed! From where I’m standing, you’re the rude one here,” Beu rasped.

“Ok, sorry, sorry.” The woman left.

“You didn’t have to be so rude to her, you know. She clearly lost someone very important to her. If it makes her feel better to make cryptic remarks about him to me, why should I stop her? She wasn’t hurting anything.”

“I know, I just really fucking hate people who think they have the moral high ground on everyone else. They always have to fucking monologue about it! Fucking annoying.”

“Alright, alright, let’s go find the others,” Caleb soothed.


End file.
